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by elusivelahmb
Summary: "Do you believe in destiny?" "I...don't know" Yang and Blake have a chat late at night. Set a few weeks after the inevitable team RWBY reunion/bumbleby beeunion in Volume 4.


It was late. Very late. Everyone else was sleeping, but Yang had been unable to drift off. So even though it was Ruby's turn on watch, she crept out of bed and away from the camp, stopping at the top of a quiet hill nearby. The valley below was lovely, all flowers and small shrubs bathed a dark blue in the dark of the night.

After a few moments, Yang heard a soft rustle behind her. She immediately identified the interloper, having grown accustomed to picking up on the presence of her partner, despite how quiet Blake was. Yang didn't turn around though, listening instead to the sounds of the night, primarily silence broken only by the low chirping of insects. Blake drew closer, sidling up next to Yang without a sound. For a moment they just stood next to each other, feeling utterly isolated in the face of such profound stillness. Then—

"Arm bothering you?" Blake's voice was smooth, but it seemed jarring against the backdrop of the sleeping hillside.

"It's not too bad. Just haven't been sleeping well lately," Yang responded.

"I'm sorry," Blake said, and the painful tone of her voice spurred Yang to finally look at her. She was staring at Yang's prosthetic arm, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"Is this the first time you've seen it?" Yang asked.

"No, but…It's the first time I've really looked." Blake's voice wavered a little as she spoke.

"Hey. Look at me." Yang waited until she caught a glimpse of amber eyes before continuing. "It's not your fault, you got that, kitten?" she said, offering a small, slightly crooked smile. Blake just shook her head, eyes trailing back down to the metallic appendage.

"How can you say that? It's entirely my fault! Everything.. Everything that he's done to you…"

Yang said nothing, gently taking Blake's hand in her flesh one. She slowly guided it up to rest on the prosthetic. Blake winced as she felt the hard metal underneath her skin. And yet…the arm was oddly warm, as if something was flowing within it.

"Aura..?"

"Ooh, you picked up on it fast," Yang said with a smile, "Atlas prosthetics are getting crazy good, Blake. This arm can even channel my aura, and…well, it's a part of me now."

"Wow," Blake breathed, cradling the metal hand between her own.

"I mean, it's not ideal. But I can work with this. And anyway, it wasn't losing the arm that broke my heart." Blake tensed at the words, flinching as if in physical pain.

"I know," she murmured, staring intently at the plates and bolts of Yang's forearm.

"Blake, do you remember what you said to me the night I found you?"

Blake tensed further, offering a curt nod and steadfastly refusing to look Yang in the eyes.

"When I woke up with my arm gone—with _you_ gone—I was just…so angry, so confused. I looked for you because it was all I could think of to do. And when I finally found you, I only asked one thing.." Yang trailed off.

"Why." Blake spoke softly.

"Right. I was obsessed with knowing the answer. I thought it would ease the pain somehow." Yang paused to chuckle lightly. "And you kept trying to run, but I didn't stop. Then I started yelling, I started burning…Did I ever tell you that was the first time my semblance activated since the Fall?"

Blake shook her head silently.

"Well, it was. After you left, my semblance just kinda..stopped. I couldn't feel strongly enough for it to work. I was totally numb."

"I'm sorry Yang. I really am." Blake took a deep breath. "But, honestly? If I had to do it all over, I can't say that I wouldn't leave again. I had to protect you from him, and I was too weak—no, I'm _still_ too weak—to do it any other way." She shook her head in frustration, gripping Yang's prosthetic hand tightly. Slowly, she leaned down to place a soft kiss on the metal palm.

"You know why I left, don't you?" Blake's voice was barely a whisper.

"I know. I think about it every day. That night in the forest, when you—when you said—"

"That I loved you," Blake finished, releasing Yang's arm and clasping her own hands together firmly.

"Yeah." Yang sighed through her nose, gazing up at the sky. It was a clear night, and the galaxies dotted across the inky darkness looked stunning. Yet the sight did nothing to calm her heart, which was thudding rapidly in her chest. Why was she so nervous? "Did you mean it?"

"Of course," Blake said. "I know you don't feel the same way, but—"

"I never said that," Yang interrupted.

"What?" Blake's eyes, glowing a striking yellow in the dark night, shot up to stare into Yang's. Yang looked away, and the night was silent again for a long moment.

"Do you believe in destiny?"

"I…don't know," Blake answered honestly, taken aback by the sudden question. "Do you?"

"I'm not sure either. If you asked me that a year ago, I would've said 'no' in a heartbeat. But now, well…I guess I still believe that we can choose our own paths. Y'know, free will and all. But maybe sometimes there's an end, a destination that we're meant to reach, no matter how we get there." Yang paused to gather her thoughts. Blake was still watching her intently, waiting to see where she was going.

'I—I mean, I couldn't stop loving you if I tried." Blake's eyes widened at the admission. "A—And I did try. Not because I wanted to, but because…I thought it would be easier for us both that way. But that's not how it works. And every path I tried, every road I went down, they all led right back to the same place. To you." They locked eyes for a moment before Yang continued.

"So I think that maybe…this is my destiny. Being here. Well, not _here_ here, but with you, y'know?"

Yang took a breath, staring at Blake's face to gauge her reaction. Her partner appeared to be deep in thought.

"Wow, Yang. That was…profound"

"That's all you have to say? And why do you sound surprised about that?" Yang pouted, drawing a small smirk from Blake.

"Ah, there's that smile." Yang grinned as she spoke. "So, whaddya think?"

"I think…I don't deserve you," Blake sighed.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, stop right there. First of all: nope. And secondly: I don't give a shit about deserving, I just know that I want you. And I'm pretty sure you want me too," Yang said, wiggling her eyebrows a little at the innuendo.

Blake couldn't stop the smile that crept onto her face. In spite of everything that had happened, in spite of the dismal state of the world and of her own mental state, there was something about Yang that made her want to smile, laugh, be happy. Yang was an unstoppable spark, a beam of light that could banish even her darkness. And suddenly Blake realized that she couldn't imagine her life without Yang. When had she gotten this way? Upon arriving at Beacon, she had vowed not to make any major attachments. And yet, she had gone and made the strongest attachment of all.

"Come here," Blake whispered, reaching out to brush some of Yang's thick hair from her forehead. Yang obliged, moving closer. Blake ran her hand through the hair, tangling it in the fluffy locks to hold the back of Yang's head. Slowly, she closed the gap between them, inch by inch.

When their lips finally met, it was with extreme tenderness. Both of them simply wanted to savor the moment.

Blake made a soft sighing sound. Yang's lips were slightly chapped, but still soft, as they pressed against hers. Mostly they were warm. She felt strong, gentle hands reaching around to grasp her back, and she tilted her head to lean further, desperate to get as close to Yang as possible. This is what she most associated with Yang. Steadiness. Kindness. Warmth. Safety.

Yang smiled at the feel of Blake's smooth, cool lips. Slim fingers ran through her hair and caressed her face. She could feel Blake pressing closer and closer even as she moved to deepen the kiss. This is what Blake was to her. Desire. Compassion. Belonging. Home.

They stayed out there, on that hill, for hours, talking about everything and nothing. And when they finally returned to the camp, they found themselves unable to let go of each other. That's how the others found them in the morning: limbs tangled together, arms wrapped around tightly, Blake's face nuzzled into the crook of Yang's neck. And Ruby and Weiss agreed that they had never seen either of them look so deeply at peace.


End file.
